When the Time is Right
by stormfirej
Summary: Gimli knows Legolas loves him, but the time is never right. Oneshot.


_Hello! This is my oneshot for Lord of the Rings, in which I use some dialogue from the movie and the book. The movie- The Fellowship of the Ring and the Book- Appendixes, The Return of the King._

_Also posted on under the name Stormfirej._

_I tried to imitate the writing as best as I could._

_Enjoy!_

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><p>"Come, <em>mellon nîn,<em> we have far to go and much to see," Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil and Elf Prince of Mirkwood says to his friend. "It is a long journey."

"Aye, Elf. I must say I am wary of entering the forest of Fangorn, after the Last March of the Ents, but I will accompany you so long as you uphold your promise to see the Glittering Caves of Helms Deep." Gimli, son of Glóin, a Dwarf of Durin's line replies.

Legolas gives him one of those inscrutable Elf smiles. "I have a surprise for you, old friend."

Gimli looks at him in suspicion. "And what might that be, Master Elf?"

"The journey to Fangorn from Gondor is indeed far. Four to five days, as the Nazgûl flies. Walking there would certainly take too long for my taste, and in extreme foresight, I have brought Arod to carry us there," Legolas says a word in Sindarin, and the white horse comes trotting out from behind a stone pillar.

Gimli bristles. "You cannot expect me to get on that hellhound you call a horse!"

"I will not let you fall off, have confidence in Arod's footsteps and my guidance." Legolas laughs gently, holding out a hand for Gimli to take, knowing in his heart that Gimli would not refuse it.

"Confidence in an Elf? Hah!" Gimli snorted teasingly, but allowed the Elf to help him up nonetheless. "If I fall off, you will have to face my axe, and you should know by now how good I am with one!"

Legolas swung himself into the saddle with all an Elf's grace. "Ah, but you will be dead before your stroke fell, for one of my arrows will sprout from your forehead like a flower in bloom."

"Aye, but that's why armour exists, lad."

"The Valar forbid you two to ever stop bickering," a new voice says with a merry ring.

"Aragorn!" Gimli says joyfully, without any respect for the King of Gondor and Arnor, and starts as if to walk forward, before painfully being reminded that he is, in fact, otherwise incapacitated.

"My Lord Aragorn," Legolas says more respectfully, having been drilled in all courses of courtesy and respect by his father, a King as well. He raises a hand to touch his forehead. "Have you come to see us off?"

Aragorn shakes his head, and long brown tresses swish with his movement, some held back by his gleaming crown. "Legolas_, mellon nîn_, how many times must I say it? There is no need for titles amongst us, we Three Hunters, for we are friends."

Legolas smiles. "Indeed, Aragorn. Fear not, for we shall return in due time."

"Goodbye then, my friends. _Namárië!_ I wish you all the luck in the world." Aragorn waves them off as the two ride off into the early morning sun. When the two have all but disappeared into the horizon, Aragorn turns back into his city. He would have loved to go with them to see the sights of the world, but alas, for Gondor needed him to rebuild the once shining White City, and his final promise to Boromir lingered.

_"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."_

**XxX**

"That's it, Legolas. I've had enough of riding on this nasty contraption. I will not stand it, you hear me?" Gimli groaned as the horse broke into a gallop, and he knocked a very sensitive area of his body.

Legolas laughed again. "_Mellon nîn_, it has been but half an hour. Surely you cannot mean to give up on our journey so soon?"

"Keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the reins, Elf! I do not wish to meet my death by falling off a hellhound and getting trampled!" Gimli waves his hands at the Elf, who had let go of the horse to turn and look at him.

Legolas throws his head back and laughs. "Oh, Gimli. We are Elves. No Elf falls off a horse unless dead! Do you fall off your mining carts?"

Gimli sputters. "What a thing to say, accusing a Dwarf of falling off a mining cart! I'll have you know laddie, we are practically born in them!"

"Then it is the same for Elves."

Gimli muttered it frustration as his giant hand tightened around Legolas' waist. At once, the Elf began to choke. "Gimli, if you would kindly relinquish hold of my ribcage, for if you don't I fear I won't survive the journey!"

Gimli lets go of Legolas so surprised that he nearly falls over, and it is only Elven grace and reflexes that save him from toppling over the side.

Legolas lets go off Gimli's leg once he is certain his friend is safe in his saddle.

"You do not know your own strength, my friend." Legolas chuckles as the horse picks up speed.

"I know I have strength enough to snap you in half like rock to an Ent!"

"While that may be true, I would rather you not test it out."

"Aye, lad. I would not dare to lose my friend now, would I? We have so much to see! Perhaps after the Glittering Caves..."

Legolas gives Gimli's leg a pinch. "You would not dare."

Gimli merely laughs.

**XxX**

The years pass by, falling like leaves in the autumn- for Legolas, it is all too soon.

Gimli, Son of Glóin had become Lord of the Glittering Caves, which to this day still retained their beauty of old and gems still shimmered in the torchlight.

However, this time, he was not admiring the beauty of the gems for the millionth time, staring at the way the light reflected back into his eyes. This time, he was looking at another gem, his very own, his very precious gemstone. The rarest of them all- there was only one.

Everyone said it was a miracle granted by the Valar and Mahal that their friendship, despite the large distance that bridged them, both physically and culturally, never waned.

Now, a century and a half after their first meeting, Gimli looks upon the fair face of Legolas Thranduilion again.

"Do you remember the last hundred years?" He asks, feeling himself smile and his smile-wrinkles crinkled. Gimli almost feels ashamed, looking at the Elf.

The years hadn't touched him, he still retained his youthful face, and his hair was as bright as ever. He was lithe as he was when they met, and almost seemed to have just reached manhood, having not yet experienced battle and war, tragedy and sorrow.

Such was the grace of the Elves.

Gimli, however, had changed. His once vibrant red hair had dulled until it was now a grey, dismal colour. His face was wrinkled, and his once great strength had disappeared.

Legolas, however, still saw the beauty that Gimli possessed in the height of his youth. Legolas laughs, fey and joyful. "Gimli, _meleth nîn_, how could I forget the best century of my existence?"

In spite of his feelings, Gimli laughs along, though his stomach hitched.

_Meleth nîn._

It wasn't time yet, wasn't time yet to tell Legolas.

No, not now. Not when his Mortal Doom would come soon. Already, it has taken its toll on Aragorn Elessar, King of Arnor and Gondor, in which the dignity of the Kings of Old was renewed.

He was heir to Isildur, yet he remained more like Elendil than any of his heirs.

Gimli stood, joints creaking with every effort. He was old- but not too old that he would forsake his friend and not ride to his death.

Aragorn had been given a mighty gift. To have the lifespan twice that of the Men of Númenor, and the grace to go when he may.

Already a messenger had been sent, telling Gimli and Legolas and all his friends, "the King Elessar will take his gift! Ride now for Gondor!"

Now, here they were.

"Ah, Gimli, remember when we were riding together though Fangorn?" Legolas asks, and is it Gimli's imagination or is there a trace of hesitation in his voice?

Gimli nods slow. "I never did tell you, but I did grow to be extremely fond of Arod."

Legolas breaks into a beaming smile, blue eyes twinkling with laughter. "Ah, _meleth nîn_, but alas! for your secrecy. For indeed I have seen you feed him slivers of apples and call to him in your own tongue."

Gimli blushes scarlet, as red as his hair in the height of his youth. "What were you doing up in the wee hours of the night, lad?" He answers gruffly, wishing not for be first time to be at least the same height as the Elf, who looked at him from high above.

"Should you not know that Elves have no need of sleep? Many an occasion I have immersed myself in the waking dreams while on horseback or marching." Legolas says proudly, his pride in his diminishing race still strong.

Legolas' voice becomes more serious, and he clasps his hand behind his back. "Will you ride with me again? I know that your legs do not work as they did before, and alas, they indeed never did well on horseback, but for this journey-the final journey of what remains of the Fellowship and the Three Hunters, would you make an exception?"

Gimli tests his joints and nods, breaking out into a slow, joyful smile, which makes Legolas' mouth turn dry. "Have you brought a horse?"

The gruff voice wakes him up from his delusions of grandeur and fantasy, and he nods too fast for an Elf. "His name is Arod, although he is not the same horse. Indeed this one is one of the offspring of Shadowfax, gifted to me by Mithrandir before he left for the Sea," and at the mention of the Sea Legolas' eyes grow sad with nostalgia and grief.

"Ah, the Sea Gimli! Such longing I have to hear the cry of the gulls. The need fills my very being. In Gondor I do not think I will be able to withhold my temptation, for the Anduin runs down to the sea and the cry of the sea-birds echoes amongst the rock."

Gimli looks at him sadly too. "After Aragorn and I have gone," he says, reminding both Legolas and himself of his frail mortality, "you may go to the Sea. But for now, my friend, stay with me! For to see you go would be a blow to my heart, and surely I would die of sorrow."

Legolas does not answer, staring at Gimli with old eyes.

**XxX**

A week into their journey, following the Entwash, Legolas first spots the river on the border of Gondor and Rohan.

"What do you see, Legolas? It is bright, but my eyes are dimmed," Gimli demands, turning to Legolas with a look of longing.

"About five miles ahead, _meleth nîn_, lies Glanhír. We shall be at Minas Tirith in a week or less." Legolas says affectionately, staring at the river, feeling his heart sing with longing again.

Therefore, he missed Gimli's turning red as the setting sun.

_Meleth nîn. _

He wondered why the Elf was so dense as to think Gimli, in all these long years, had not learned Elvish. He was tempted to say, "_Gi melin_," and watch the Elves pretty face turn the colour of poppies and roses as the impact of what he said sank into his skull.

But he did not say anything.

**XxX**

"My King," Legolas sinks gracefully onto one knee. "It has been a long time."

Aragorn Elessar laughs. "Legolas, Legolas, a century clearly has not changed you. Indeed, I feel the old age setting in, and on my nameday I shall pass from this world, with all your goodwill, if I may have it. In this time, my son, Eldarion is fit for Kingship, and I have already given him the crown. So now, _mellon __nîn,_ I am no longer King Elessar the Elfstone, but Strider the Ranger, Estel the Ward of Elrond and Aragorn the Man."

Legolas stands eyes shining, and opens his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Gimli. "Then, Aragorn, he who has aged more than I have, I trust you have not forgotten your love for ale?"

Aragorn laughs, and almost seemed young again, as if lines did not cover his face and his hair wasn't peppered with salt. "Aye, Gimli, you never change."

"Then, shall we recount old tales of Edoras and Imladris, of the War of the Ring and what transpired in the years we were apart?" Gimli smiles and the two do not need convincing to say yes.

**XxX**

The two stood sombrely over Aragorn's body, in which a great beauty had been revealed, and everyone who came marvelled at it, for the beauty of his youth, the valour of his manhood and the majesty in his days of old had been shown, and he lay there, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed, and so would be until the breaking of the World.

"I miss him already, and it has not been a day since he accepted his gift," Gimli finally says, breaking the silence that stretched in between Legolas and himself. "Alas, would that we were all immortal."

"We could be immortal Gimli, and we are, for songs of us are sung in many a tavern and inn, but alas- we could not be immortal for long." Legolas says, and looks away from Gimli, who immediately knew that something was wrong, and when he made the connection it felt like a hundred Orc knives to his stomach.

"You are leaving." Gimli says, and it is not a question, but a statement of fact.

Legolas takes a sharp intake of breath, and strides away from the tomb, into the light of Minas Tirith- the White City shone again.

Gimli chased after him, ignoring the arthritis in his joints. "You are leaving. Did you not say you would wait for me, Legolas Greenleaf?" He says accusingly, every word a knife to the back of the Elf.

"I am sorry, oh, Gimli, no words can explain how sorry I am! _Novaer,_ Gimli son of Glóin, _savo 'lass a lalaith, boe annin gwad_. I noticed everyone going away, and I have been saying here. I know I said I would not leave you, but I have to go, I cannot stop now. I hate to let you down and break your heart, but it is the Sea, oh, _gi melin._"

And Gimli knows it is time.

"_Pedin edhellen_, Legolas."

Legolas' mouth open and closes. "What?" He asks in common tongue, and all his Elvish grace seems to have vanished, vanished in the instance Gimli reveals his secret.

"I can speak Elvish, Legolas. Did you honestly think I would not learn? _Dôl gîn lost_." He snorts, and all Legolas can think of to say is, "_Nin gwerianneg."_

Gimli frowns. "I have not betrayed you- you never asked, and I never said. But why do you call me _meleth nîn_, Legolas, when I am but to you a friend?"

"_Pre-channas_!" Legolas shouts and Gimli takes a step backward. "I love you, you stupid dense Dwarf and that is why I have to go! You are going to die, and I cannot bear to watch you depart this world without me!"

Realization dawns on Gimli. "Ah, Legolas, if only you spoke your heart sooner, for in my language to that I would say _menu zirup men_, for you complete me, Legolas. As you might recall, I did so say that Dwarves are made with the engravement of their one and only true love, their One, onto their souls. And you, Legolas, are my One, though I did not burden you with this knowledge." Gimli smiles sadly, and takes a deep breath. "But you are nonetheless right, and you have to go."

Legolas looks at him with red eyes, and sinks to his knees, finally looking at Gimli level in the eyes. "_Gi melin_?" He asks in a half whisper, and Gimli is shocked to see the amount of pain Legolas is displaying.

"Aye," He answers, flushes, and looks away. "I did not tell you- for I learnt that Elves can die of heartbreak, and I would never wish that upon you."

Legolas breaks into such an expression of joy that it momentarily roots Gimli to the ground. He reaches up a hand to hesitantly cup Gimli's cheek, and waits there for so long that even Gimli- with his patience for crafting and building snaps and he jerks Legolas forward by his tunic and captures his lips in a kiss.

**XxX**

Legolas leaves that night, merely telling Gimli he had an errand to run. He was gone for a month before he returns, but his eyes are gleaming and he looked happier than he had ever been for a decade.

"I must go," he says, voice cracking on the last syllable, an evidence of his fading Elvish grace. "I will fade if I stay any longer."

"Is that the first thing you would say to me upon your return?" Gimli asks hoarsely, also evident of his oncoming Mortal Doom.

Then Legolas turns to him, the epitome of happiness and says, "When I left, I went to what remained of the Elves. But wait!" And he held up a hand to stop Gimli's outraged questioning. "I went to seek out the Eldar, to ask them for the favour that would have been the greatest in history if granted. Gimli, son of Glóin, would you come with me to the Undying Lands, where we could live together in peace and in harmony?" He asks hopefully, his smile wide.

Gimli's mouth falls open. "You mean forsake Middle Earth and all my kindred?"

Legolas' smile droops at the corners. "Yes. I will not hold it against you if you refuse."

Gimli stares at him until the sun disappeared behind the mountains, before sighing. "Oh, Legolas, for the love I bear you, I will go with you to the Undying Lands, and have a chance to look upon the beauty of the Lady Galadriel."

Legolas weeps with joy.

**XxX**

Legolas built the ship, and it was a month again before they set sail, Gimli leaning heavily upon a carved wooden staff.

When at last they ventured West on their boat, and the curled grey curtains rolled backwards to reveal white shores, green land and a peace Gimli had never experienced, he turned to his love and finally said, "I love you, Legolas son of Thranduil."

Legolas smiled, and his heart sang with joy as he watched the grey fall from Gimli's hair and the wrinkles smooth over, until he was standing there in the very height of his youth, and the staff was cast aside.

* * *

><p>All elvish (Sindarin and Quenya) taken from: real elvish (I cannot post the full link as is being annoying)<p>

Dwarvish (Khuzdul): yahoo answers

Translation for Elvish (One Quenya and the rest is Sindarin)

Mellon nîn: My friend.

Meleth nîn: My love.

Namárië: Goodbye (Quenya).

Glanhír: The river that lies on the boundary of Rohan and Gondor in Sindarin.

Mithrandir: Gandalf in Elvish.

Gi Melin: I love you.

Novaer: Farewell. (Sindarin)

Savo 'lass a lalaith: Have joy and laughter.

Boe annin gwad: I must go.

Pedin edhellen: I speak Elvish.

Dôl gîn lost: Your head is empty.

Nin gwerianneg: You betrayed me.

Pre-channas: Idiot.

Dwarvish:

Menu zirup men: You complete me.

Gandalf never gave Legolas a horse- I just felt like it. XD


End file.
